Sandman: The Manga
by JoeMan500
Summary: Volume One: The Long Sleep (1 Chapter)
1. Dreams of a Setting Sun

SANDMAN: THE MANGA

    

Volume One: The Long Sleep

'Sandman' & 'The Dreaming'  
created by  
Neil Gaiman 

Introduction: This series came about in a variety of ways. It started when I bought a copy of 'the Dreaming: Through the Gates of Horn and Ivory' TPB. I had heard of Sandman and Neil Gaiman's work but, not wishing to cave in to what might be considered comicdom's conformity, I chose not to read it. After reading this collection from 'The Dreaming,' I picked up volumes 1 & 2 of 'Sandman' ('Preludes & Nocturnes' and 'A Doll's House'). I became hooked. I quickly read the entire series. I also got my hands on all the 'Dreaming' TPBs and one-shots I could. I also picked up all the available 'Sandman' one-shots and mini-series (I am currently collecting the Sandman Presents mini-series). Around the time I fell for 'Sandman,' I also picked up a copy of 'How to Draw Manga: Occult and Horror' by Anarctic Press. Eventually the thought occurred to me: what if the two were combined? Since I obviously do not have the resources to fund either an anime or manga version of Sandman, I decided to incorporate Japanese and Manga styles into a fanfic series. As brief research I picked up the 'Sandman: Dream Hunters' to see how Mr. Gaiman handled Asian culture. I then flipped through my handy Japanese to English dictionary and jotted down some basic plot points. The result is what you currently read. I hope you enjoy it! If the series is popular, I may finish off an entire adaptation of the whole series (I've begun making notes if I ever need to write a Sandman: The Manga Companion).  
  
Chapter One: Dreams of a Setting Sun  
  
The bald man worked tirelessly finishing the circle in salt. It encompassed the majority of the area in the basement of the temple. The sun had set long ago, and the darkness now surrounded the elegant and impressive shrine that was his home. But long ago it had passed from the Way of Buddha, to the monk's new religious sect; the Order of Ancient Mysteries. In the inner chamber of the temple, many people crowded around the monk, all wearing the black shroud that the monk himself wore.  
  
"For years," said the monk, "I had been a loyal servant of the Buddha." All the followers quieted. "I accepted a life of servitude, in the hopes of one day reaching the nirvana and overcoming the pains and decay of life. For if I did not become enlightened, I would - like all of you - be forced in samsara... the continuous circle of life, old age, and death."  
  
"But then," preached the monk as he reached into his dark robe. "I came across a scroll written long before the enlightenment of Buddha... before all other known scrolls." He now produced a cylindrical canister, the kind normally used to store rare and important scrolls.  
  
"This scroll explained, in detail, the existence of seven beings higher than Buddha or any of the other gods." The entire attendance grew wide-eyed and a cold dead silence filled the room. "They are Those Without End. They have existed since before our world, and will continue to exist long after it is reduced to dust."  
  
The monk now pulled a dirty sac next to him as he continued talking. "Of all the Endless Ones; the Loved One, the Sad One, or even He Who Sees All... only one has interested me and this order; the Black One. Death. It is written that, if one were to capture Death, then one might have dominion over the forces of nirvana and samsara. One need not spend his lifetimes praising the Buddha. Instead, one could enter the nirvana..." The monk smiled. "...or bring nirvana to himself."  
  
"Now," ordered the monk as he lit seven candles around the ring of salt, "we will attempt this very thing. Now... we capture Death!"  
  
If ever applause could be silent, then the small group of defector monks applauded with the loudest silence ever heard in the Land to the East. For now, the monk (known to his followers as Akurei Sama, the Demon King) began the ancient ritual of summoning.  
  
"I give you coin I made from a stone." Akurei produced a small round stone. He placed in the exact middle of the circle.  
  
"I give you a song I stole from the dirt." He sprinkled a fine powder on top of the stone. As the grains fell, it seemed to whisper an inaudible tale.  
  
"I give you a knife from under the hills." Akurei pulled a crooked dagger from his bag. But this he laid at his side.  
  
"And a stick I stuck through a dead man's eye."  
  
"I give you a claw I ripped from a rat."  
  
"I give you a name, and the name is lost." He whispered something into the middle of the circle that was inaudible to any other assembled.  
  
Now, Akurei raised the dagger at his side. He lay it flat against his tender forearm. He turned it slightly and put pressure on the blade. "I give you blood from out of my vein." The black and viscous liquid poured down his arm and dripped twice into the center of the circle.  
  
"And a feather I pulled from an angel's wing."  
  
"I summon with poison, and summon with pain."  
  
"I open the way and open the gates."  
  
"Come." As he said this one word, his acolytes repeated.  
  
"From the dark they call you... into the dark they call you. Coin and song, knife and stick..." The air in the center of the circle began to shimmer. "Claw and name, blood and feather... Here in the darkness..." Now the shimmering of air began to take shape. "Here in darkness, we summon you together," cried the monk, his voice rising with excitement.  
  
And then, all the followers including the Lord Akurei himself spoke at once: "COME!"  
  
And then, the center of the circle erupted. The drops of blood spun and multiplied. The seizing and bubbling blood began darting wildly in the circle as if it were alive. Then, it became a giant column of swirling and boiling sanguine liquid that reached all around to the confines of the salt circle.   
  
"COME!" cried the Order of Ancient Mysteries. And come he did.  
  
The blood dispersed. And the men crowded around. In the center of the circle, where the offerings once stood, was now the collapsed figure of a man. His body was covered in a black kimono whose trail appeared to dance with flames. Near his hand lay a closed pouch. Around his neck hung a magnificent ruby, as red as blood. And on his face he wore an ancient kabuki mask that appeared as though a deformed and comical skull.  
  
One of the silent followers stepped forward. He was a young boy, barely 10. He appeared to be the youngest of the group. His features were eerily similar to the Akurei Sama's. "W-we did it!" he cried. His eyes were wide and a dumbfound smile was spread across his face.  
  
"No," said Akurei solemnly. He began to push through the crowd to get to the stairs. Dejectedly, he ascended the stairs to the main chamber of the temple. "We have failed," he said as he disappeared up the stairs. "This isn't the Black One. This isn't Death."  
  
"What!?" cried the young acolyte.  
  
After a moment, the head of the Lord Akurei appeared again from above. "I suppose he can still be of use. Strip him. His garments may prove... useful."  
  
The agents of the Order worked in silence for the next hour, disrobing their unconscious quarry and casting various spells of protection on them. As they did, Akurei Sama enacted all the arcane spells and incantations he knew in his own personal chamber. The spells of binding and the spell of trapping made sure that his new prisoner would not escape. His spells were scrying spells. He needed to find out who his prisoner was. He needed to find out what horror he had unleashed.

* * * *

It was seven days and seven nights before the Akurei Sama's prisoner awoke. It was late. Near midnight. Akurei had sat in wait for nearly the entire week, waiting for the mysterious man he had summoned to wake up. He hadn't slept in days.  
  
"Who are you?" asked the monk as he saw his prisoner stir. "I know you are not the Black One. It is doubtful that you could be the Indescribable One, or the Pleasant One. Who are you then? The Knowing One? Or are you the Seventh One who is mentioned only once in the scroll?"  
  
The black-haired man said nothing. He sat with his knees to his chest in the center of the circle. He was naked. Nonetheless he moved not to cover his body, simply to keep away from any edges of the circle. His body was covered in bruises. The Order had found his body that way when they stripped him.  
  
"Talk to me," pleaded the Lord of Demons. "We can negotiate for your freedom." The prisoner said nothing. "I know you can offer me things. Immortality. A boon. Protection from revenge." He waited. Nothing. Akurei Sama was worried. He was no longer able to lock eyes with his prisoner. He quickly looked away and retreated up the stairs.  
  
Before he disappeared, he stopped on the stairs and looked back. "I will control you, you know. Once I have your name, you will be mine." His prisoner simply looked silently. Stars sparkled in his eyes. Akurei Sama quickly ran up the stairs and disappeared. The prisoner heard a heavy door slam.  
  
The man in the middle of the circle sat in silence after his captor left. His attention turned when he heard the faint sound of 'drip.' He looked to a corner of the room. A single drop of water fell from a crack at the base of the ceiling above him onto the cold floor. The ground in that area was discolored.  
  
'Patience,' thought the dark man. 'Wait.'  


* * * *

It was a month later until the Akurei visited the man again. He walked slowly down the stairs into great round chamber. This time he was not alone. Following close behind him was the young acolyte who had been so excited the night of the summoning. The boy carried several large scrolls underneath his arm.  
  
Akurei Sama spread out his various objects of arcana that he had gathered. He was busy at work extracting juice from a freshly picked animal liver. It dripped into a small brass pan. He sprinkled various powders in it. He began reciting a spell in a long dead language.  
  
All the while, his young acolyte stood looking at the prisoner. The pale man sat in the same unmoving position since he had woke. The young acolyte's eyes were transfixed on the prisoner's. The dark-haired man had empty eyes that were dark in a manner that it appeared as if he was both staring at the demon king's son and at the demon king himself.  
  
The young apprentice walked silently towards the prisoner. His hand was outstretched, as if he wished to touch him. A glazed look was in his eyes. It was as if he were in a trance. The boy walked forward. His next step would be on the thick barrier of salt.  
  
"Deshi, you foolish boy! Wake up!" cried the Akurei Sama. He had just noticed the advancement of the boy.  
  
Deshi shook his head as if dispelling a troubling thought. "F-Father?"  
  
The Lord of Demons looked angrily at his apprentice. "Father? You have no father. You are the bastard child of worthless whore! I am no child's father. I am the Lord of Demons!"  
  
It appeared as if Deshi had finally come back to reality. "I... am sorry, Lord Akurei. I did not mean..."  
  
"Do you know who he is?" asked Akurei Sama.  
  
"The prisoner? No I... do not know. I read the scroll but..."  
  
"Did you read the story of the monk and the fox maiden?" asked the man.  
  
"Yes, sire."  
  
"Tell me, who did the fox maiden turn to?"  
  
"I forget his name, lord. But he told her to..."  
  
The lord was becoming impatient with his son. "And what did he look like?"  
  
Recalling from memory, Deshi began to recite the story. "The man had flowing hair as black as midnight. His skin was the color of pale milk. His eyes were like tepid pools, each containing all the stars of the universe. He wore a cloak made of shadows, with flames dancing at his feet." At this point, the young acolyte turned back to the prisoner.  
  
"He is the King of All Nights Dreaming." Answered Akurei Sama. He now continued to add ingredients into his putrid concoction. "I would have known, but he is barely mentioned in the scroll. The focus is put on the Black One and the One Who Knows All. Unlike the rest of them, he has no stories of his own. He is known only through the stories of others. He is the Prince of Stories, the Opener of Doors and the Lord of the Desert Behind One's Eyes."  
  
"The King of Dreams." Echoed the child in awe. He looked back at the solemn, imprisoned man.  
  
"Get away from him!" cried Akurei Sama. "He almost had you once. To look into his eyes is to be lost in dreams. He will use you to break the circle and set him free. Then he will kill you and torture me for an eternity. Is that what you want!?"  
  
The young acolyte lowered his head. "No, sire." His head perked up. "Since we know his true name, does that mean that we can force him to do our bidding!?"  
  
The Lord of Demons looked at his bastard son. "You truly are a fool! Firstly, he has no true name. He has no name. He simply accumulates titles. They are attributed to him, they do not define him. And secondly, that kind of incantation will not work on his kind. We are not dealing with a mere demon or goblin."  
  
"Well, if he is a god..."  
  
"Shut up! He is not a god. Gods come and go. Gods can die. He is much older. He is of the Endless Ones." Akurei slowly poured the contents of a small vial into Now leave me."  
  
Deshi slowly ascended the stairs. "If you cannot conjure a spell against him, what are you mixing?"  
  
Without turning from his work, Akurei answered. "I am making another spell of summoning. If he will not grant me protection, I will find someone who can." Deshi disappeared. The door slammed.  
  
Akurei produced the kabuki mask that had been stripped from the pale man. He set it on the floor and dipped his hands into the putrid mixture he had just made. He made a small circle around the mask. Before he began his enchantment, he turned to his prisoner.  
  
"I don't need to do this. I can give you back your... tools... of you like. All I ask in return is immunity from revenge. All I want is to live forever. You can do that. I know you can!" The pale man did not answer. "Very well. Say goodbye to your mask. It will by me my protection. Perhaps I can bargain a few centuries for it."  
  
The pale prisoner did not answer. Instead, his attention was turned to the corner of the room. A small drop of water fell to the floor. It landed in a small pool.  
  
'Patience,' thought the Lord of Dreams. 'Wait.'

* * * *

In the Realm of All Night's Dreaming, the skies were gray. The clouds were no longer lighter than the sky. Since six months ago, the clouds had turned black. The sky was especially dark at the Obelisk, which laid at both the outermost rim of the Realm of Dreaming... and at its center.  
  
The Obelisk was a place where few beings, mortal or dream, dared to venture. It wasn't because the sky was always dark (which it was). It wasn't because the ground was permanently charred and black (which it was). And it wasn't because it was home to the mysterious Obelisk which evoked fear in everyone short of the King of All Nights Dreaming (which it was). It was because this Realm of Dreaming was home to the darkest and evilest of living nightmares.  
  
Inside the short, yet wide palace, a single Living Dream stood wondering. He was a tall man with broad shoulders. His hair was a pale white that glistened like pearl. His eyes were obscured by a black cloth which he had tied to cover her eyes. he stood silently in front of mirror. His eyes were fixed on his own reflection.  
  
The being known as the Kougaku was always fascinated with mirrors. Every surface in his palace of metal he called the Obelisk was a reflective surface. His obsession was justified. The Kougaku himself had been created as the dark mirror of the human soul. Inside his mysterious eyes, lied the evil behind every living human soul.  
  
'The Lord of the Dreaming is gone,' thought Kougaku as he studied his mirror.  
  
As he stared at his reflection, the harder he looked, the less definite his form was. As he stared hard at his own reflection, he saw his body begin to fade. It was not a fading like a disappearing, but rather it was more like him looking beyond his own form to a different level of his being. In the mirror, in the place where his stomach would have been, hovered a shining silver gem as big as his fist.  
  
Curious, Kougaku dug his hand into his stomach. With the Shaper of Form gone, the forms of those he had shaped became less distinct. Kougaku reached deep into himself. He didn't know if he was going into his physical or spiritual self. He didn't even know if those two things were separate. Finally, his hand grasped something hard. Slowly, he extracted his closed hand from his stomach.  
  
He held the jewel up to his face. It was perfectly cut, in an octagon. Its color was deceptive, making it appear as if it were made of metal. It was the color of quicksilver, a perfect gray metallic luster. Yet, from the inside, it glowed with a white light that the Kougaku had only seen wielded by his master.  
  
Kougaku walked outside his Obelisk, holding the gem in his hand. He walked several yards away from his palace. He walked forward until the landscape began to blur. Kougaku found himself in the Graveyard, an annex of his own realm. All around him were burial plots. On top of the plots were bones of various shapes, sizes and species.  
  
The Graveyard Where the Dead Still Live was one of the places in the Realm of Dreaming that was most often visited. Along with the Great Sea Where One Might Drown, and the Mountain That Causes One to Fall, there was never a time when one could find these places empty. Yet now, Kougaku was the only one for miles.  
  
Confused, Kougaku raised his arm which held the silver jewel. He aimed it at a nearby skull. In what seemed like instinct, he felt his own life essence channel through the gem. It began to glow. A ball of energy formed around his hand. With a blinding flash, a beam of bright light shot out of the jewel and blasted the skull.  
  
As the light dissipated, Kougaku looked at his handy work. Where the chalky skull once lay, now was replaced by a fleshy and bleeding severed head. The head, though decapitated, was still living. Moving its jaw muscles slowly, it attempted to talk.  
  
"Hhhheellp meehhgggg~~*" The head let out an eerie petition.  
  
Calmly, and with little change in his stoic appearance, Kougaku energized the gem again. It blasted another blinding beam. As the light faded. The entire area where it had hit no longer existed. All around the area was dirt and bones and shadows. But the area where the beam had hit was a white void.  
  
Kougaku held the jewel in both hands. The glow surrounded him. Suddenly, Kougaku's mind's eye was given a vision. Kougaku saw his creator, the King of All Nights Dreaming. He saw thirteen gems, of varying sizes and colors. He saw his master build him around the silver gem. He saw the other gems being hidden in other dreams. Kougaku was brought back to the Realm of the Dreaming. He smiled.  
  
"The Lord of Dreams in gone." He made his silver jewel glow. The area around him warped and spun. Suddenly, he found himself on the expanse of dreamscape that held the mighty Temple of the Dream King. The sky here was dark too. Kougaku began approaching the temple.  
  
He smiled. "The Lord of Dreams is gone... long live the Lord of Dreams!"

* * * *

The King of All Nights Dreaming sat as a king deposed. Naked. Cold. Hungry. He sat huddled in the same position that he had sat in for a decade. He sat quietly. He sat contemplatively. He sat expectantly. He sat.  
  
The man who called himself Akurei Sama slowly descended the stairs. He descended the same way he had descended for the past decade. With him he held the same fear, uneasiness and fatigue that he had carried down those stairs for the past ten years. Akurei Sama descended.  
  
"The crops are dead this season. The rice patties won't grow. The cattle are dying. Meat is scarce. Our Order's numbers are dwindling. Some of us have died. Others have killed themselves. Others have simply gone mad. Is this your work? Your family's? Do you... they... is this an attempt to break me? Is this some feeble attempt at your rescue?"  
  
The Lord of Dreams sat silent.  
  
"Well it won't work. Whatever your family does to my followers... it doesn't matter. They never mattered. I used them. Money. Power. Whatever I wanted. Just as I tried to use you. But if your family thinks they can make me free you, they are horribly mistaken. This place. Me. My son... my apprentice. We are protected. I have made bargains both on this plane and on others. You tools proven very valuable bargaining chips." The Lord of Demons laughed.  
  
The Lord of Dreams sat silent.  
  
"I hate you! I can free you! Just say the word and I'll break the circle and let you go." Akurei Sama sighed. "There's an epidemic you know. Thousands of children in the surrounding provinces. They've all... fallen asleep. They won't wake up. It started the night I captured you. Are you doing this? Did I do this?"  
  
The Lord of Dreams sat silent.  
  
"Lord Akurei?" A young man peered down the staircase. "Lord Akurei are you down here?"  
  
"Yes Deshi!" cried the Lord of Demons.  
  
"Now, now," said the Son of the Demon King. "Sire, you know its Lord Densetsu now."  
  
"Yes," agreed Akurei Sama. "I suppose it is."  
  
"You know, the followers are in the main chamber. They are waiting for your sermon."  
  
Akurei Sama sighed. "You had better deliver the sermon. You've done such a good job with everything else. The Order has... lost its appeal since the summoning. I spent my whole life searching for a way to prevent death. When I summoned this... thing, I cemented my fate. The whole purpose of the Order was made for nought. It is yours now. I am becoming an old man. I need my sleep."  
  
Lord Densetsu of the Order of Ancient Mystery disappeared behind the heavy door. Akurei turned back to the King of Dreams. He sighed.  
  
"Anything you wish to say before I leave? Care to gloat? I am nearly 45 years old now. Long past my prime. And with all my incantations and with all my spells and bargains... I doubt I'll make it another 45. Unless your ruby can help me. I sleep with it now. For protection. You think it'll hurt me? Should I get rid of it, too?"  
  
Akurei Sama lowered his head. He had not expected a response this time. He had stopped expecting a response after the first two years. He had ran out of spells and incantations in the first year. Now, he came down out of habit. His visits were always the same. He no longer worked with his Order of Mysteries. Those years of his life were gone. Now, all he did was come down there and petition the Lord of Dreams. He would get no response. He would leave in the same way. Silently. The door slammed as Akurei Sama left the chamber.  
  
The Lord of Dreams sat silent. He looked over in the corner. A drop of water fell. It landed in a pool. The pool was now contained in a shallow brass container. The container was filled to the brim. With this drop, a little water dribbled over the side. A new pool was beginning to form next to the container.  
  
'Patience,' thought the Dream Lord. 'Wait.'

To be continued...

NEXT: 'When I Grow too Old to Dream'


	2. The Once and Future King

SANDMAN: THE MANGA
    

Volume One: The Long Sleep

The Story So Far: Akurei Sama, leader of the Order of Ancient Mysteries, attempted to use an ancient scroll to summon Death and imprison it so that he might have eternal life. Instead, an error in the spell caused him to summon The King of All Nights Dreaming, the lord of dreams. Hoping to gain some use from the Lord of Sleeping, Akurei stripped him of his pouch of sand, kabuki mask, and giant ruby. In an attempt to gain protection from the rest of the Dream Lord's family, the Endless Ones, Akurei trading the items with various supernatural forces. Meanwhile, in the Realm of Dreaming, the nightmare known as Kougaku has discovered a mysterious dreamstone hidden inside himself. Using the stone's power to manipulate the realm of Dreaming, he began a quest to gather all thirteen and crown himself the new King of All Nights Dreaming.  
  
Chapter Two: The Once and Future King  
  
"You can't escape me, Baiorin!" he cried  
  
The Kougaku strode forward, each step filled with arrogance. All around him, his flowing silver kimono billowed in the darkness. He no longer wore a cloth around his eyes. The shadows obscured most of his face. He advanced through the darkness in search of his quarry.  
  
"You should just give up now, Baiorin!" he cried into the darkness. "I only need two more and I'll be as powerful as the Master himself! I've located you... the last one ought to be a matter of time! C'mon, I'll be a kind and generous king... if you cooperate. But if you fight me, I will bathe your body in acid rain and bring a heard of razor-toothed, grass-devouring cattle to your fields!"  
  
The darkness did not answer him.  
  
"Damn it!" cried Kougaku. "I've have had enough of your foolishness, Baiorin! Show yourself!!!" With this, energy flowed around Kougaku. His body began to glow. Exerting his will over the darkness, he reshaped it. The shadows twisted and spun. The Ocean of Shadows faded to reveal a charred and barren wasteland. Suddenly, in the distance, a portly old man could be seen running. Kougaku smiled.  
  
"I found you," he said to himself.  
  
Baiorin ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn't know where he was running, but he had to escape. He had to prevent Kougaku from stealing the dreamstone that lay imbedded in his essence. The Dreaming had deteriorated since Kougaku's campaign at a coup against the absent Dream King, and if he gained the power inside Baiorin, he feared the Dreaming would collapse entirely.  
  
Suddenly, Kougaku appeared a foot in front of Baiorin. Baiorin couldn't stop in time and ran right into the demented nightmare. Kougaku didn't move. Instead, Baiorin fell back onto the ground. He landed hard.  
  
"You can't run from me you fat little hamlet! I am the new King of All Nights Dreaming. This realm is mine to manipulate. There is nowhere you can run that I can't find you. But you won't need to worry about running anymore." Kougaku reached down, his hand open, as if to grab Baiorin.  
  
In a flash, the old man disappeared. Suddenly, Kougaku found himself in the middle of a grassy plain filled with trees and flowing waves of grass. At first, he thought that he had been fooled somehow, and that Baiorin had sent him to a different realm of the Dreaming. But then, he remembered...  
  
"Thought you could escape me by transforming into your true form!?" he cried to Baiorin's Field. "No matter. An essence is an essence no matter what shape it takes!" He reached down into the soil below him. He could feel the edge of a small gem...  
  
And suddenly, he was back in the wasteland that was once his own realm, empty-handed. Kougaku's eyes darted to and fro looking for Baiorin's Field. He caught a glimpse of movement towards the horizon. "I grow tired of these games Baiorin!" Again, Kougaku appeared in a flash infront of the elderly man who was also Baiorin's Field. Baiorin stopped in his tracks.  
  
"Don't you understand? You cannot stop the inevitable. Just like the ten before you, I will extract the dreamstone from your essence and return you to your rightful place in the Dreaming! We can do this the easy way, like I did with that tall and foul-mouthed fellow (he just handed it over, you know). Or we can do this like I did with his fat, stuttering brother. Do you want to end up like that Baiorin? Because I'd really like to see what a field of grass looks like turned inside out!"  
  
"Fuck you!" cried Baiorin as he spit into the face of Kougaku.  
  
The nightmare lurched forward, putting his face nose to nose with Baiorin's. Baiorin could now see his eyes. He had deep sockets. Inside each one, however, was not an eye... but a set of razor-sharp fangs. As Kougaku talked, all three mouths formed the words.  
  
"No... FUCK YOU!"  
  
Kougaku back-handed Baiorin violently. The portly old man flew back several yards, landing hard on the burnt and ash-gray ground. He looked up with an expression of pain obvious on his face. His eyes darted all around as Kougaku slowly advanced on him. He had no way out...  
  
Baiorin jumped up quickly, and ran as fast as he could to his right. Kougaku stopped and followed with his line of sight to where Baiorin was running. He was shocked to see a distortion in his reality. The image of the horizon was blurred by a swirling mass of energy. Baiorin darted towards it and jumped through it... vanishing.  
  
Kougaku slowly approached the vortex. He could feel the energy it exerted. As he came face to face with it, he raised a hand towards. Holding it open-palm towards the event horizon, he slowly pushed into it. Kougaku could feel the other side of the vortex. He slowly stepped through the portal...  
  
Kougaku suddenly found himself in the middle of a busy street. He stood wide-eyed and confused. He didn't move, even as the taxi came barreling down on him. The driven slammed on the horn and hit the breaks, skidding forward towards Kougaku. It stopped mere inches from hitting him.  
  
The driver got up and reached out through the window. He was a very agitated man. "Hey, you fuckin' asshole! Watch where you're going you dumbass! I oughtta run you over right now, son of bitch!"  
  
Kougaku smiled all three mouths. "I don't know where I am... but I like this place!"

* * * *

Akurei Sama climbed slowly down the stairs. With each step, a 'click' echoed throughout the chamber. This was the noise of his cane as it hit the granite floor. He descended the stairs very slowly. His hands wobbled and he grasped the cane. His body was curled and bent and he walked forward. Finally, he reached the bottom of the floor. He slowly hobbled forwards towards his prisoner.  
  
"Look at you," he said. His voice was shaky with age. "Do you know how old I am? I am 95 years old. Almost a century. Look at me. When I captured you, my hair was long and as black as yours. Now, I am bald save for the coarse gray hairs that grow from my nose and in my ears. My vision is blurry. My hearing is almost completely gone. I need this infernal cane just to walk a few feet. I stay in bed most of the time now. I am going to die soon. I know it. Yet look at you. Haven't aged a day since I caught you. Not one goddamn day. Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself? Any words of wisdom? A curse? A boast? No? Hah!"  
  
"You know, the Order has forgotten all about you. They follow my son, Deshi, now. When I was in charge he was a foolish and headstrong child. Now, they call him 'Lord Densetsu.' Now, he is the wise old magus. It's ironic, no? Anyway, when he dies - which will probably be within this or the next decade - everyone who knows you exist will disappear. This room will be sealed off. You'll sit down here forever, rotting in your goddamn cage."  
  
"I could let you out, you know. Even now. I could stick this wooden cane, and smudge the line and break the circle. I could, you know. I have no reason not to. I don't want to live forever now. What good is immortality if I have to live as a frail old man for the rest of existence? No, I have no reason to hold you here. What's the worst you could do? Kill me? Hah! That'd be doing me a favor. I'll be dead by the time the week is over anyway. No, I don't think I fear death. Actually, I think I'm looking forward to it. I'm the most wicked man alive, you know. The Lord of Demons. It'd be nice to see if I can live up to that title. But you know why I won't do it? Do you know why I won't free you, even now?"  
  
The Lord of Dreams sat silent.  
  
"I'll tell you! It's because your so goddamn quiet! I hate that! For over half a century I've been coming down here and you haven't said a goddamn word. Not one, 'let me out' or a single 'fuck you.' Nothing! It's creepy. That's what it is. I'm willing to forget everything and let you out. Right now. All you gotta do, is say something. It doesn't even need to be a word. Scream. Shout. Growl. Laugh. Anything! Just say something!" Akurei Sama looked off to the side of the chamber, a confused look across his face. "What was that? It sounded like fluttering."  
  
The Lord of Dreams sat silent. He heard a drip. He turned to stare at the large pool of water that lay in the corner of the chamber. The pool was big enough now that it had become a watering hole for the rats. It was bigger than a puddle. With that last drop, the pool finally overflowed. The drop gave it the impetus to travel. A small stream formed and snaked its way slowly across the downward slanting floor. Finally, it reached the thin circle of salt. The force of the stream made the slightest break in the line.  
  
Akurei Sama's eyes grew wide. He realized what was happening around him. "No!" he cried. A sharp pain ripped through his chest and down the left side of his body. He grasped at his breast, collapsing to the ground.  
  
The circle exploded in a torrent of bright light. Slowly, yet filled with confidence, the naked King of All Nights Dreaming walked outside the circle. With a deep breath, he smiled for the first time in sixty years. "At... last!"  
  
The Dream Lord walked over to body of Akurei Sama. He lay prone and motionless on the ground. He was dead. The Prince of Stories bent down and held the man's unconscious head in his hands. With strong pressure, he squeezed on the man's eyes. Suddenly, the Lord of Demons exploded into dust.  
  
The King of the Unconscious World stood up. "Brother, you would rob me of my vengeance?" The shadows of the chamber did not respond. The Lord of Sand sighed. "Very well, then the sins of the father shall be exacted upon the son." The Lord of Dreams disappeared.  
  
The aged Densetsu Sama lay troubled in his bed. Despite the mattress filled with the feathers of exotic birds, and the sheets made of the finest silk, Densetsu tossed and turned. Startled to the waking world, he reached down to the floor where his glass of water had stood. In the darkness, he felt the cup overturned, and the water spilt. Densetsu slowly got up out of bed. He had meant to get some more water. He found himself face to face with a pale-skinned, dark-haired stranger.  
  
"W-who are you?" asked the Lord Densetsu.  
  
"What is the matter?" asked the pale man. "Bad dreams?"  
  
Densetsu's eyes widened. He backed away slowly, but found himself falling back on the bed. "Please don't kill me! I didn't do it! It was my father! I never wanted to--"  
  
"Quiet!" cried the Lord of Dreams. "Your actions have betrayed you. For sixty years I lay still in the darkness and the cold. You sat in the lap of luxury, enjoying your money and your status. You would have left me down there, after the father's death. I would have been trapped until the wooden boards of this temple rotted and decayed, collapsing down on me and finally breaking the circle. You would have done this to me!"  
  
"Is he dead?" asked the old man. "My father? I suppose so, if you're here now. So, do you plan on killing me now too?"  
  
"I kill only to ensure my own life," stated the King of All Nights Dreaming in a cold, monotone manner. "You are no threat to me. Not now. I can, however, punish as I see fit."  
  
The old Lord of the Order of Ancient Mysteries swallowed hard.  
  
"My tools, where are they?" asked the pale Dream Lord.  
  
"Y-your tools?"  
  
"I suppose my robe vanished once it was taken from my body, vanishing back to the shadows. But I require the others. The mask. The pouch. The dreamstone. Where are they?"  
  
"I... I don't know."  
  
At this, the King of All Nights Dreaming seemed to swell, to encompass the whole room. Now, the stars that twinkled in his eyes were like exploding supernovas, spreading their eerie glow upon the tattered old Densetsu Sama, and his lavishly decorated bed chamber.  
  
"T-they were traded away. By my father. The mask, the one made from bone. He traded it to a demon in the Realm of Jigoku. In return he set spells of protection for me and father, and the temple. From the rest of your kind. The rest of the Endless."  
  
"Foolish mortal. It is not the way of my kind to interfere with each other. It is not given of us to interact on another's behalf, unprovoked. No harm from the Endless would have fallen on you or your pathetic temple. You threw my helm away for a shallow promise. No matter, which demon did he trade it to?"  
  
"I-I don't know."  
  
The pale man sighed. "Very well. My pouch. The one that contained the sands from the Desert of the Dreaming. Where is it?"  
  
"Stolen. By a member of the Order. A man by the name of Kirisuto. I do not know his first name. He was a magician. Not like my father... a real magus."  
  
"Better," admonished the Dream Lord. "And my ruby. What happened to my crimson dreamstone!?"  
  
"I don't know. As far as I knew, my father never got rid of it."  
  
"This... Kirisuto. Could he have stolen it as well?"  
  
"No, I... I don't think so. After he left, father began to sleep with the dreamstone. To protect it. Perhaps it is still in the temple. Hidden?"  
  
"No. I would feel it if it were here."  
  
"Are you going to kill me now?"  
  
"No." The King of Dreams thought for a moment. "You have trouble sleeping, don't you Lord Densetsu?"  
  
"...Yes."  
  
"Very well. I will give you a gift. Never again will you worry about waking. For you I give an eternity of dreams." With this, the elderly Lord of the Order of Ancient Mysteries fell to the bed, unconscious.  
  
"You will never wake. You will be trapped in a dream. A dream of sleep. Every time you wake up, you will find that you are still sleeping. When you wake again, you will again discover you are sleeping. Your prison will have no respite. Your circle will not be broken. If you are lucky, you will starve to death. If not, one of your followers will find you in the morning and will keep you alive. Either way, I care not. I have other matters to attend to."  
  
The Lord of Dreams concentrated. The shadows around the bed chamber of Densetsu twisted and swirled around his naked form. The shadows coalesced. They formed a flowing black kimono. The Dream Lord concentrated again. Slowly, he walked into the mind of Densetsu Sama. Densetsu's dreams were a door, and through them, the Opener of Doors managed to enter his own realm.  
  
"Finally," said the Lord of Dreams as he walked across the dead gray grass of the Realm of Dreaming. He ascended to a peak of a hill. Once there, he would see the Temple of All Nights Dreaming; his palace. "I am... home?" The Dream King was startled at the sight of his temple. The midnight palace where he had sat and ruled for a millennia was in ruins. The bamboo had broken. The wood had decayed. The temple had been destroyed.

* * * *

The fat and sweaty man who called himself Tanoshimu clumsily fumbled with the keys to his apartment. He flipped through his key ring until he found the shiny brass key. He quickly inserted it into the key hole, turned it, and opened the door. He dashed inside and slammed the door, locking it again. He flicked the light switch.  
  
Now, Tanoshimu slumped against the door and let out a sigh. In the light of his small apartment, the blood smeared on his clothes became apparent. He closed his eyes and smiled. He had had another successful night. The urge was now gone. He was normal again.  
  
"Which one was it, tonight?"  
  
Tanoshimu turned, startled. He was shocked to see a lanky young man with long, silver hair, dressed in a fine new gray suit. His eyes were obscured by small round sunglasses. A devilish smile was on his face. He sat on the little counter that made up the kitchen of Tanoshimu's tiny apartment.  
  
"Which one was it? A delicate young girl, full of sugar and spice? Or a feisty little boy, full of..." The man paused. "I forget? What is it little boy's are made of? On the inside? You would, of course, know best off all."  
  
"W-who are you?" asked Tanoshimu. His voice quivered. His knees were shaking. "H-how did you get in here?"  
  
"I go where I please. As for your first question..." The silver-haired man hopped down off the counter. He strode forward towards Tanoshimu. The fat, sweating man could see his own distorted reflection in the man's glasses. "I think you already know."  
  
Tanoshimu's eyes widened further. "No. It... it can't be. They're just dreams. Just..."  
  
"Do you have what I asked for?" asked the silver-haired man.  
  
Not even knowing why, Tanoshimu reached into his pocket. He pulled out two small, bloody orbs. His hand shaking, yet seemingly acting of its own accord, reached forward and deposited the two red balls into the outstretched hand of the strange, silver-haired man.  
  
The silver-haired man discretely tilted back his head and removed his glasses. The shadows obscured Tanoshimu's view of his eyes, but he knew... deep down... what was happening. Pushing his hand up to his eye sockets, the silver-haired man put back his glasses and turned to look at Tanoshimu.  
  
"I wasn't sure you'd do it, you know," said the silver-haired man with a smile. "I knew you'd go hunting tonight. I just wasn't sure that you'd bring me back my... souvenirs. I'm glad that my message made itself clear."  
  
"Just a dream," muttered the fat, disheveled man. "You... you're just a dream."  
  
"I have a new job for you, my little minion." The silver-haired man reached into the inside of his crisp new suit. He produced two seemingly ancient pieces of scroll. He handed them over to the fat man. Tanoshimu grasped the papers hesitantly, then drew them to his face.  
  
The first piece of scroll had a drawing, seemingly made in some lavish brush-strokes. it made the picture of an impossibly realistic man. He was old, in the sixties perhaps, though his eyes made him look much older. His hair was gray. Tanoshimu silently marveled at how colorful the black and white drawing was. Underneath the picture, in elegant writing, was written 'BAIORIN.'  
  
Tanoshimu shifted to the next piece of paper. It was another drawing, fabulously rendered. It was a jewel, perfect in every sense. Again, though the picture was black ink on yellowed parchment, the fabulous glow of the red stone seemed to glitter in the light of the apartment. Tanoshimu looked back at the silver-haired man.  
  
"You're real, then?"  
  
"More real than you could possibly imagine." The man smiled. "I need you to find me those two things. You can do that for me, can't you?"  
  
Tanoshimu nodded, slowly.  
  
"Good, good." The silver-haired man began to walk slowly into the shadows. He stopped and spun around. "By the way, I may not know what they are made of..." He pulled down his glasses. Tanoshimu could see his eyes. They were bloody and had a speck of lint from Tanoshimu's own pockets. And they were framed, all around, by razor-sharp teeth. "But I must say, the little boys taste wonderful." He readjusted his glasses and turned back to head into the shadows. As he disappeared, Tanoshimu heard a whisper in his ears.  
  
"Sweet dreams..."  


To be continued...

NEXT: 'In Dreams'


End file.
